


i hope you feel the way i do

by futurefishes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor cries, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Riding, Role Reversal, Sorry Not Sorry, hankcon deserves happiness!!!, im bad at writing action scenes, like a lot, no beta we die like men, reverse au, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futurefishes/pseuds/futurefishes
Summary: 'Another laugh echoes around in Hank's head. "If you aren't careful, your little fuck-toy might be next. If you want to avoid that, I'd recommend you cooperate with me. The files I shared with you at the beginning of our conversation should be proof enough that I’m watching him, knowing his exact whereabouts.”Hank’s processors starts running inside of his head. Statistics and probabilities of success and probabilities of death and risk assessments and Connor. His pink lips, the way he says Hank’s name, the way he smiles, the way he kisses Hank and the way he tells him ‘I love you’. Red blood on the floor and cold and dead, dead, dead.A golden ring, waiting to be shown. A promise of a forever.“...What do you need me to do?” Hank says, his voice calm but full of rage.'(connor's life is threatened, and hank will do anything to save him)





	i hope you feel the way i do

**Author's Note:**

> let me tell you; it's been 2 months since i finished writing this, and one month since i started editing it. i was planning to get this trainwreck out into the world much earlier, but life got in the way.
> 
> and also this was not meant to be this long,,,, it just,,,, kinda happened lol.
> 
> but still, i hope you'll enjoy this massive hankcon piece that has been resting in my documents for so long now.

Connor flops against him lazily. He’s spent and sated, his lips drawn in a small smile that makes something warm and cozy grow in Hank’s chest.

“God, I’ll never get enough of that,” Connor mumbles into his chest, his breath warm against Hank’s chassis. Hank laughs, low and happy.

“Me neither, baby,” Hank replies, as he moves to pull out. Connor groans at the feeling, tensing slightly, but as soon as their bodies aren’t connected anymore, he relaxes again. “You’re so perfect.”

“Mmh,” Connor hums, his arms wrapping around Hank’s middle. It’s a nice pressure against his chest, and Hank tries to pull the lieutenant even closer. “I’m glad you got assigned to me.”

“Me too,” Hank presses a kiss to Connor’s curly hair, before reaching over the bed to get his shirt, discarded among their other clothing on the floor. He uses it to clean them both up, and although it doesn’t get everything, it’ll have to do for now. He throws the shirt back onto the wooden floor, making a note to put it away tomorrow morning. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Connor voices against his skin. His warm, brown eyes look him over once, before he leans up to press a kiss against Hank’s lips. It’s short, but it’s so nice and soft, Hank wants to drown in it. “Goodnight, Hank. I love you.”

“Goodnight, baby,” Hank replies, loving the way heat still rises to Connor’s cheeks, despite being a couple for almost a year now. “I love you too. Sleep well, I’ll wake you in the morning.”

Connor smiles at him, before he closes his eyes. Hank stays awake, just enjoying the pressure of his boyfriend’s head resting on his chest. It doesn’t take long before Connor’s breaths even out, and he’s deep in a dream.

It’s times like this, when the house is quiet except for Connor’s light snores, that Hank really lets himself take in everything that has happened; it’s almost crazy that he, an android, who a few months ago was seen as nothing but a machine, has this much now. In the span of a little less than a year, he has gotten rights and a free-will. He has a dog, he has a nice home. A home that he shares with none other than Connor, the lieutenant who he was assigned to when he first started his mission, but who ended up becoming so much more than that, so much more important than just a puzzle piece in Cyberlife’s plans.

 _God_ , Connor. The way he looks at him when he think Hank doesn’t notice. The way he says his name. The way he always holds him close. Hank presses a soft kiss against his hairline, careful not to wake the human up.

Who would've thought that he or Connor would end up here? While Hank was nothing more than a machine, Connor was a mess. Never eating or sleeping enough. Working until he collapsed. Smoking a pack a day. His dark thoughts haunting him to the point that Connor hadn’t seen any light in the tunnel.

It might sound cliche, but Hank really can’t help but think that they both saved each other. Hank wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Connor; he might have never deviated, and he would've finished his mission only to be decommissioned and deactivated. Connor would’ve probably run himself down into the ground if Hank hadn't been there for him when it mattered the most. It makes everything so fragile, but at the same time it makes everything so incredible.

He wonders if Connor knows how much he means to him. If he knows that he saved him. He hopes that the ring, golden and bright, resting in Hank’s bedside drawer, will be enough to make him understand.

He hopes it’s enough, prays that it is. He can’t help but let the thoughts follow him into the darkness as he enters stasis.

It’s 3 hours and 41 minutes later that someone tries to connect to him.

Hank feels his brows furrow; it’s not Markus or any of the other Jericho members - Hank has their connection numbers saved, as they all keep in touch. The model number SX800 pops up in his vision, and Hank's lips pull into a frown; whoever this is, Hank doesn’t know them.

He can still hear Connor’s light snores from on top of him, and he lets his hand pet his hair as he answers.

“Ah, HK800,” A voice, cool and collected, answers as soon as the connection gets stable. It's not one he recognizes. “I’ve finally reached you.”

“Who are you?”

“Me? I’m nobody… Nobody important, at least not yet,” The man on the other line doesn't quite laugh, but Hank can hear his smug smirk in his mind. He feels his lips form a slight scowl.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Ah, yes. I heard you had quite the way with words. I’m not disappointed,” The man definitely chuckles now, and Hank’s sure his own LED is spinning _red, red, red,_ coloring their bedroom in crimson light. “I also heard you are quite close to one Lieutenant Arkait. I bet he’s curled up against you now, the disappointment of a human?”

Hank feels his thirium turn into ice, frozen in place, before he starts to boil of anger. His grip around Connor’s resting body gets tighter, holding him even closer to him. “Fuck off, motherfucker. Leave Connor the hell out of your mouth!”

“Connor, huh? Interesting. Seems like you’ve gotten real attached to the inferior spices,” The man hums, as if agreeing with himself. “It seems like you have no choice but to accept my deal, then.”

“I’m not accepting any fucking deal,” Hank spits, his thirium pump beating loudly in his chest. 

“Oh, you are. If you want your dear Connor to stay alive, that is.”

All words gets lost for a moment, his programming working twice as hard through his shock. His processing takes longer, and the line is quiet for a few seconds before he finds it in him to speak, anger coloring all his words. “Leave Connor alone, you fucker!”

“Then you’ll help me with my mission, HK800. If not, you can kiss your pretty slut goodbye,” A full blown laugh this time, one that chills Hank to the very core. “I’ll contact you in 24 hours. You better make the right decision.”

The line cuts of before Hank can reply, and once more the house and his mind is filled with silence.

It’s another 5 hours and 21 minutes after that, that Connor shows the first signs of waking up.

Hank hasn’t entered statis in the time that has passed; he hates to admit it, but the call earlier affected him. He has spent the past 5 and a half hours clinging onto Connor, holding him close and pressing kisses to his hair, as if he would disappear if he let go.

Connor wiggles slightly from where he’s resting on top of Hank’s body, looking up from his chest to meet Hank’s blue eyes. Connor’s eyes are bright and alive, filled with what Hank now knows is love. “Good morning, Hank.”

“Mornin’, Babe,” Hank presses a kiss to his forehead, enjoying the way Connor melts into him. “Slept well?”

“Mm, I did,” Connor laughs, like he doesn’t believe it. “If I’d known that you’d get my sleeping schedule under control, I would’ve confessed earlier than I did.”

Hank can feel himself grin back down to the lieutenant, and as he doesn’t find any words to say, he presses a kiss against Connor’s pink lips. It’s a passionate kiss, slow and tender, and before they pull away, Hank lets his hand go down to Connor’s round ass, giving it a squeeze. Connor jumps and lets out what can only be described as a small yelp, before giving Hank a playful smack on his arm.

“I need to get ready for work,” Connor voices, as he begins to climb out of bed. His frame hasn’t left Hank’s body in the last 9 hours, and Hank already misses the pressure. “Meet you in the kitchen?”

“You got it, darlin’,” Hank replies, loving the way Connor splutters and turns red before he leaves the room. 

He stays in bed for a while longer, just taking in the situation. The sun is shining in through the closed curtains, and it seems like a nice day. It _would_ be if not for the conversation he had with the unfamiliar android earlier that night. 

Hank knows he would do everything to protect Connor; anything and everything. If Connor’s life was in danger, he would risk his own. Even if there’s no going back this time. 

He sighs deeply. His thoughts return to the ring, hidden in the bedside drawer. He wants to ask Connor the question so badly, but he feels like this isn’t the right time.

When is the right time? Will he be able to ask the question before it's too late?

His thoughts are interrupted as he hears Connor flush the toilet, and he leaves the bed to go start on the breakfast.

Work is slow. 

The day's work is filled with paperwork, which they both agree, isn’t very stimulating. Connor’s focus has been slipping over time, and now he seems more than content on letting his and Hank’s ankles touch and move under their desks. Hank tries his best not to let the smile show on his face, but it’s difficult when his boyfriend looks at him like _that_. 

“Focus, Connor,” Hank tries, although he knows it’s a fruitless attempt. Connor may be the youngest lieutenant ever in the state of Michigan, but he sure as hell gets easily distracted.

“I can’t,” Connor whines, letting his ankle hit Hank’s softly once more. “We’ve got no clues on these cases. I’ve already read them twice, some even _thrice_ , there’s nothing there!”

“Keep looking,” Hank replies, ignoring the way Connor groans. “I bet there’s something there.”

Connor huffs. “You’re no fun.” 

His ankle doesn’t leave from Hank’s though. They’re softly moving next to each other, in a quiet rhythm. Hank lets his eyes wander over to Connor’s face, as his boyfriend looks at the terminal. He feels warmth grow in his chest.

God, Hank _loves_ him. He loves.

But the scene is soon broken, as Chris enters the bullpen. It makes quite a few people turn their heads around, as he practically sprints to Connor and Hank's desks. “Arkait!”

Connor looks up, his slight pout replaced with his professional, serious face in a matter of seconds. “Yes?”

“We need you and Hank at the scene,” Chris gasps. He seems to have been running the entire way from the parking lot, and Hank notices how fast his colleague’s heart is beating. _He should exercise more._ Connor frowns.

“What, the murder scene?”

“Yes,” Chris takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “We have gotten some clues that leads us to believe that the culprit is an android. If you could help us out, it’d be really appreciated.”

Connor takes the information in, and it only takes a few seconds before he’s nodding, no doubt wanting to get away from the paperwork that's taken up half of his desk. “Okay, let’s go.”

The victim, the politician Oskar Gilies, was found in his living room, having died from multiple stab wounds. He was a very appreciated man to the ones around him, and the one who called in the crime was one of his lovers, who had gone to his house when he didn’t pick up the phone.

His residence was in a wealthy neighborhood, and Connor sighs in frustration as he catches sight of the crowd that has already started to gather outside of the police tape. A quick scan on the people tells Hank that the crowd mostly consists of either well-known millionaires, who undoubtedly knew the victim in some way, or what seems to be by-passers, who couldn’t fight against the curiosity to see the crime sight in person as soon as they heard the news.

Connor parks the car near the backdoor, away from the crowd that's only increasing in size. They walk inside the house quickly, trying to avoid any cameras from the journalists, who are already looking at them like eagles who just found their pray. 

“Ah, brother,” Niles voices as soon as they step inside the kitchen through the door. He seems to have been expecting them. “Finally, you’re here.”

“That, I am,” Connor says as he lets his eyes roam around the house. Hank takes it in as well; the luxurious, spacious home is very organized and the furniture are worth a fortune alone. “So do tell me, _why_ are we here?”

“Well,” Niles begins, moving further into the house. “After going through the entire house, we have detected no fingerprints at all, except for our victim’s as well as his close associates. The CCTV, that has been kept up to date and checked at least once a week, suddenly turned off around the time for the murder. Gavin also found blue blood next to the body; not a big amount by any means, but it’s more than what should be there, considering Gilies didn’t own any androids. In fact, he despised them, which was clearly evident in the politics he tried to bring to the table.”

“So, the android was out for him? Out of revenge?” Connor asks, his voice steady and serious. Hank can't help but smile proudly; Connor was always fast at catching up.

“That’s the theory we’re working from now,” Niles says, and Hank moves forward, coming to a stop next to the body. A quick scan tells Hank that it’s Gilies, Oskar, born 2003-04-02, time of death approximately 17 hours ago. “And that’s why I sent Chris to get you two. While android crimes are interesting enough, I do not have the experience to follow this case through to the close, were this theory the correct one. As you two are the ones with the experience, would you two consider helping us out?”

“Of course, we’re gonna help,” Connor replies without a second of hesitation. He turns towards Hank, who only nods, before Connor's attention is back to the crime scene again. “Do you mind if we look around?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Niles has started to write something down in his notepad, his eyes tracing the letters as they appear. “The technicians has already been here, so feel free to take a look.”

Connor looks at Hank once more, the warm brown of his eyes full of confidence and certainty, before he nods. “Let’s get to it.”

The car ride home is quiet. They had spent the rest of the day at the mansion, looking for clues that could lead them to the culprit. The residence was huge, even bigger than what you could see from the outside, and when they were finally able to go home, Connor was more than a little exhausted.

He had looked in every corner, searched every spot that could be possible to use as a hideout. He had managed to grab a few things that hopefully could give them an idea as to why Oskar Gilies had become the victim and who the murderer was. It had been a while since a case had been this intriguing, and the amount of focus Connor put into the search drained him on all energy. 

Connor sighs in relief as Hank drives into the parking lot outside of his house and turns off the engine. They walk inside quickly, the darkening sky that a few hours ago had been clear, now filled to the brim with gray clouds. The rain falls softly around them, cool enough to make Connor shiver down to his very core.

As soon as they open the door, they’re greeted by Sumo, his tail wagging back and forth as he gives them a loud ‘boof’ in welcome. The dog was Connor’s in the beginning - his one steady companion through the past few years of his life - but Hank would be lying if he said he hadn’t developed a soft spot for the big dog as well. 

“Hey boy,” Connor greets as soon as he gets out of his coat. He kneels down next to Sumo, and lets his hand fall through the gray fur. “I’ll change and then I’ll take you out on your walk, got it?”

At the magic word, Sumo’s tail starts wagging faster, and he practically runs towards the door. Connor chuckles, and Hank can’t help but smile at the entire scene.

“I can take him on the walk, if you want to,” Hank offers, putting his arm around Connor’s shoulders and squeezing. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“Thank you, Hank. But it’s fine,” Connor assures, and presses a kiss to his lips before he moves out of the embrace. “Today _has_ been a lot. But going on walks makes me calm. Í'll survive.”

“If you say so,” Hank starts, watching as Connor makes his way to their bedroom. He's swaying his hips seductively, looking over his shoulder to Hank with a playful look, and the android can’t help but laugh softly at his boyfriend’s antics. “I’ll get started on your dinner.”

Connor shouts words of gratitude from the now closed bedroom door, and Hank moves over to the fridge. He throws a look over at Sumo, who’s still waiting by the door, now confused as to why no one has taken him outside yet. Hank huffs out a laugh, before he turns around to focus on the task at hand.

A few moments later, Connor reappears, this time wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that Hank had bought a few months after the revolution. It’s a black hoodie, simple enough, but despite him being the one who bought it he has pretty much never worn it. He had gotten out of stasis one day to find Connor wearing it around the house, claiming he loves the way it fits on him. He has yet to return it.

Not that Hank’s complaining. The sleeves fall over Connor’s hands, and the hoodie is big enough to reach halfway down to his thighs. It’s an amazing sight, so amazing that Hank wouldn’t mind Connor keeping the damn shirt if it meant that he could continue to look like this. 

“You liking what you see?” Connor asks, smug. He must’ve noticed the way Hank’s eyes were taking him in, but then again - Hank had never tried to hide it.

“Very much, you’re the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” Hank moves away from cutting vegetables to gather Connor up in his arms, pressing their lips together in a passionate and hot kiss. Connor always moans the moment their tongues touch, and this time is no exception; he pretty much melts in Hank’s embrace, as he returns the kiss with enthusiasm. 

“Bet I’d look even hotter wearing _only_ your hoodie,” Connor winks, moving his hands around Hank to grab his behind. Want - an emotion that Hank had never felt a few months ago, an emotion that now is so familiar he can recognize it from miles away - starts pooling in the bottom of his stomach, warm and liquid hot. He nibbles Connor’s ear sharply, loving the groan the lieutenant lets out from under him. He can already see it before him; Connor, spread out on their bed, his milky thighs a huge contrast to the dark of the hoodie that’s pooling around his frame. 

“Let’s find that out after you’ve taken Sumo out and had your dinner, huh?” Hank whispers into Connor’s ear, pressing kisses from his ear down to his jaw. “You worked hard today, you deserve to get treated well.”

Connor sighs, but it’s shaky and more of a gasp than anything else. He withdraws from Hank, chuckling nervously. “God, you make it really hard to leave.”

Hank scoffs, moving his hand up to Connor’s head to pet his hair softly. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Hurry along now.”

“Fine,” Connor agrees, but not without muttering something about Hank being a 'goddamned tease', before moving over to the front door, where Sumo is still waiting. At Connor’s advancement towards him and the sight of Connor grabbing the lease from the shelf, the dog's earlier confusion melts into excitement, and Connor has to hold him down to be able to attach the leash to his collar properly. 

It’s only a few seconds later that the front door opens, and Connors yells out an ‘I love you’, before disappearing out into the rain, leaving the house quiet. 

Hank watches through the window as Connor and Sumo run through the rain towards the park, smiling all the while.

It’s the middle of the night that a notification suddenly pops up in Hank’s HUD. _Images attached_. 

His processors are slower than usual whenever he gets out of stasis, so it takes a few seconds longer for the pictures to load than he's used to. When the file opens, he finds that it's photos taken near a park - a park that Hank knows too well - with a man and a dog in the foreground. The photo seems to be taken earlier today, as Connor is wearing the same clothes he had changed into before he went out with Sumo, only mere hours ago. The same clothes that still lay forgotten on the bedroom floor from their earlier activities.

Hank looks at the pictures, feeling terror well up in his chest. His led is pulsing a vibrant crimson red at his temple. He can tell that Connor had no idea someone was following him, and the fact that this man was close enough to hurt Connor makes Hank’s thirium run cold inside his chassis.

“Your pretty boy is looking splendid, isn't he?” The same voice from yesterday exclaims with a laugh. The sound of his laugh can only be described as evil and cold, and Hank absolutely _hates_ having to hear it. “He didn’t notice me at all! It was so fun! Imagine, I could’ve killed him right there and then, and you wouldn't have known a thing!”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ touch him! I’ll find out who you are, you fucker, and I’ll kill you!” Hank can feel his teeth grind against each other, the anger inside of him coming to a boil. Just the thought of someone laying a hand on Connor makes him want to use the skills he was programmed with. 

“I'd like to see you try. I've been doing this for months, and I know that your boyfriend and company have their eyes focused on my every move. Do you think I really would get careless now?” The man sounds smug again, and Hank wants nothing more than to hit him in the face with a hammer. “Nah, I’m not done having my fun yet. I still have a few imbeciles I need to take care of, you know. It would be bad manners to leave in the middle of a mission! But I'd guess you'd know all about that, huh?" Another laugh echoes around in Hank's head. "If you aren't careful, your little fuck-toy might be next. If you want to avoid that, I'd recommend you cooperate with me. The files I shared with you at the beginning of our conversation should be proof enough that I’m watching him, knowing his exact whereabouts.”

Hank’s processors starts running inside of his head. Statistics and probabilities of success and probabilities of death and risk assessments and _Connor._ His pink lips, the way he says Hank’s name, the way he smiles, the way he kisses Hank and the way he tells him ‘I love you’. Red blood on the floor and cold and _dead, dead, dead._

A golden ring, waiting to be shown. A promise of a forever. 

“...What do you need me to do?” Hank says, his voice calm but full of rage. The man on the other line doesn’t seem to mind though, as he lets out what only can be described as a squeal of excitement. 

“I knew you’d come around!” He laughs, long and loud, before he continues. “You need to keep the police away from finding me. Humans may be inferior, but I also know they refuse to give up until they succeed. But no matter how many resources they put into finding me, you won’t let them. Unless you want to see the lieutenant without a head, that is."

Hank takes a breath he doesn’t need, his thirium pump working harder to compensate his stress levels rising. “How many more do you plan on taking care of?”

“I still have seven to go. Seven inferior, disgusting, human beings that deserve what’s coming to them, for what they've done to us,” The android on the other side sounds thoughtful, but it’s only for show, as he quickly continues. “It would’ve been eight, if you hadn’t accepted the deal.” 

“I’m doing it for Connor,” Hank clarifies.

“Oh, believe me, I know. And he’s safe as long as you keep your end of the deal. But if you don't keep your word, I'll be sure to rearrange my priorities.”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Hank repeats, hoping it gets through to the android on the other side of the line. _Don’t touch him. Don’t hurt him._

“Good,” The android hums, pleased with the outcome. “I’ll contact to you tomorrow night as well. You better reply.”

The line cuts off abruptly, the sudden silence uncomfortable. Hank opens his eyes slowly. Their bedroom is glowing red, from his LED that's still spinning crimson. 

He looks down at Connor next to him, sleeping soundly, his brown hair spread out on the pillow like a halo.

Hank lets his hands stroke his spine and his arm softly, leaning closer to him. “I’d do anything for you. I’d do anything, Connor. I love you.”

The only thing he gets in reply is a snore. 

“From what I can gather,” Connor begins a couple of hours later, holding up a plastic file with all the clues gathered so far. “This is the work of a serial-killer.”

“How come?” Niles asks, his brown eyes looking up at Connor with curiosity. Although he’s trying to hide it, it’s easy to notice how much he really looks up to his brother; his eyes are bright and focused only on what Connor will say next. Hank can’t recall ever seeing Niles wearing a similar look whenever he works with GV400 - also known as Gavin; it's a well-known fact around the precinct that they butt heads more often than not.

“The thirium is from a SX800. While there, of course, are a lot of androids of this model, there is only one with the serial number; and the DNA of this specific android was found at this crime scene. The android that is our main lead at the moment has the serial number #541239102 and goes by the name of Dan ever since the revolution and his deviation” Connor stops for a few seconds, his brown eyes looking over the room. "While there are no traces of thirium that could properly be tested from the other crimes-scenes, the method used to kill the Gillies is very similar to how Vannesa Collins died a month ago, and Robert Stern two weeks ago. It's no work of a copycat, that's for sure. The similarities rules that out."

“Hm, that does sound logical,” Niles continues, absentmindedly tapping his pen down onto his notebook, leaving a black circle that grows in size every time the ink hits the paper. He bites his lips, grey eyes focused on the table in front of him. “It does sound like we have a lead to work from now.”

“Not to ruin this,” Hank finds himself saying, making all turn around to look at him. “But have we ruled out other suspects?”

Connor blinks, the look on his face can only be described as dumbfounded. “I beg you pardon?”

“I mean, have we concluded that humans weren’t involved?” Hank presses, trying his best to look confident in the words he speaks, even though he knows himself that it's complete bullshit. “For all we know, they might use the thirium as means to keep us from their true identities and blame the androids for it.”

It’s quiet for a beat, before Niles speaks up. “So you mean to tell us a human framed this android for the murders?”

Hank shrugs. “Unless you have any evidence that proves otherwise, it’s still a possibility. The revolution wasn’t long ago, and we are all aware that some still share the same sentiments as before. Our man Gilies here wasn't keen on us either, you know? People in his social circle most likely shared this belief with him, even if they might've wanted him gone. Of course, I’m not saying for certain that’s the case, but I’m saying that we should look into it before drawing any conclusions.”

Niles nods, slowly, as if he tries to comprehend the words. Hank throws a glance over to Connor, but the lieutenant doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze is thrown back to the younger brother as Niles speaks again. “I guess we’ll keep that in mind as we move toward."

They all nod, but Hank can’t help but notice that Connor looks hesitant. But it’s soon forgotten, as the meeting is concluded and they all move to go back to the piles of paperwork waiting for them. 

It continuous like that; whenever they're close to a breakthrough or finds another clue that could lead to the DPD finding Dan, who Hank is more than certain of is the killer and the android who keeps talking to him in the middle of the night, Hank tries to change the focus of the investigation or at the very least discourage the findings. As the investigation has continued, another two humans have been found killed, and Hank knows from his nightly conversations with Dan that he’s the one who did it. It's hard to know the truth and still continue to lie to everyone at work, and Hank has been close to ending the deal multiple times. But every time he’s about to voice his concerns, Dan sends more photos, all of them shoving an unsuspecting Connor - taking a phone call outside a crime scene, buying groceries at the local supermarket or waiting for Hank. The pictures are always taken from a close-range, and they both know that there's no way that Hank will stop following the orders as long as he can see that Connor's in danger.

It's still difficult though; Hank wants nothing more than to find Dan and kill him, but he knows that even acting on his feelings and wants would put Connor in danger. And there is nothing he wants less than that.

So he stays put, and follows orders, even as he sees DPD and Connor getting run into the ground with the case.

And speaking of Connor; 

In the beginning, Connor was worried and confused by Hank’s behavior. He kept asking him if he felt fine and if something was wrong. But as the days turned to weeks, his previous feelings of concern slowly but certainly transformed into frustration and irritation.

“You’re hiding something from me, Hank,” he says in the car on the way home one late afternoon. Hank knew from the beginning that he wouldn’t be able to get away with what he was doing for long; Connor has always been intelligent and quick at thinking, and he knows Hank well enough to notice his strange behavior. But even so, he tries to come up with excuses.

“What would I be hiding?” Hank asks, his eyes not leaving the sight of the road. Connor scoffs.

“Well I don't know, why don’t you tell me?”

“Honey, I’m not hiding anything, I promise,” Hank tries, looking over at Connor as he stops the car at a red light, meeting his eyes to prove his honesty. Connor frowns. 

“Don’t call me that,” he insists, breaking the eye-contact as he turns to look out of the windshield. 

“But babe-,”

“I said, don’t,” Connor interrupts as the light switches from red, yellow to green and Hank starts to accelerate once more. “I’m mad at you. Both of us are well aware of the fact that you're hiding something from me.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not,” Hank tries to assure, but he knows that his LED is spinning yellow at his temple; something that doesn't go unnoticed by Connor. His boyfriend sours even further and his lips pull into a scowl.

“You’re the worst liar I know,” Connor puffs, and moves further to the window, looking out at the dark city of Detroit. The car falls quiet around them.

Hank’s mind is spinning as he continues the ride home. He hates it whenever Connor is mad at him - they don’t argue that often, they’ve only had one or two fights since they became official - but whenever the mood would sour, it would always make something hurtful pull in his chest. 

And although he, at times like this, would love to tell Connor about the deal, just to make him understand, he can't! There's no way he can risk the life of the one he loves like that. He supposes that he'll just have to live with the pain he feels inside of him at Connor's distance until this is over. Having Connor mad at him is better than the alternative. 

_(which is a pool full of blood, slowly coloring the ground crimson. Connor’s brown eyes - no longer warm, but distant and empty)._

He soon pulls into the drive-way, and Connor is out of the vehicle before the engine is dead. He walks quickly up the steps to the door, not waiting for Hank to follow.

The android sighs, as he turns to leave the car as well. He quickly locks the vehicle before he hurries through the darkness into the comfort of the house. 

When he opens the door, Connor is petting Sumo. He’s not looking at him, instead burying his face into the soft grey fur of the dog, whose happily wagging his tail back and forth, happy to see them.

Hank sighs, and moves to take off his coat. He hangs it up on the rack, trying his best not to think of Connor's anger; instead he thinks of good things, of playing with Sumo in the backyard, of joking with Josh, of feeling the warm sun against his chassis-

"You know who the culprit is." 

Connor's voice makes Hank startle, and he turns around to face him, wide eyed. "I don't-"

"You do," Connor insists, matter of factly. "You do and you are keeping it from everyone to protect them. Why?"

"It's not like that, Con-"

"It is!" Connor lets go of Sumo's fur and is quickly on his feet, facing Hank. He's fuming, his voice loud and sharp. Hank has never seen him like this. "And you know it as well as I do! It's the SX800, isn't it? It's obvious, because whenever someone as much as mention the model you change the subject."

Hank gapes, his LED spinning yellow on his temple as he tries to think of something, _anything,_ to tell Connor instead of the truth ( _the truth would mean red and death and grief and end_ ). "Yeah, because I don't think that's a reasonable lead."

Connor inhales, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, really? You expect me to believe that _the_ state-of-the-art android's only argument is that it's not reasonable enough?"

Hank's about to reply, but Connor's mouth is quicker than even his fastest processors when he's angry. "I may not be programmed for police work, but that doesn't make me stupid. Don't you think I _know_ you by now? Don't you think I _notice_ that you're not acting as usual? That you can't give any conclusive reason for our lead being wrong except for you not _feeling_ that it's the right one. Despite this theory being what everyone else at the department thinks is the correct answer to the murders," Connor takes another breath, his lungs empty from speaking so quickly. "I know this begun when we got assigned the case. I know _you know_ what's going on. If you could just be _honest_ with me-"

"I can't," Hank let's out, and Connor stops talking abruptly. It's as if all air is out of him.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't tell you the truth," Hank explains, and his heart breaks when he sees the dejected look on Connor's face. Anger is not the dominating feeling on him, not anymore, as sadness takes its part.

"Don't I mean anything to you?" Connor murmurs, so quiet that Hank wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't completely focused on the lieutenant. 

"Of course you do, Connor. You know you do."

"Then why can't you be honest with me? 

"It's not that easy,"

Connor looks heart broken, his eyes full of hurt. He can no longer look hank in the eyes. "Look, if you don't wanna be with me, I'd understand-"

"God, Connor, that's not it!" Hank's voice booms, startling both Connor and Sumo, who had curled up in his bed next to the couch. "I couldn't tell you because your life would be in danger if I did. He threatened to kill you if I ever told you or let the DPD find him, so of course I _fucking_ agreed to help him get away with it."

Connor is quiet, his brown eyes wide and surprised. "...Why?"

“Because I want forever with you, Connor! God, I was supposed to ask you to marry me, even,” Hank’s voice is loud, and if it wasn’t for his anger boiling inside of him, he would’ve noticed Connor freeze. “I want to spend the rest of my goddamn life with you. You mean so much to me. Do you really think I would risk your life?”

Connor doesn’t respond, instead he just looks at him with wide eyes. The silence is unbearable. Until. “You were going to ask me to marry you?”

Clarity hits like a train, and suddenly Hank feels frozen himself. He had let the words out in the heat of the moment. His plans… everything's ruined. But now isn’t the time to sulk about missed opportunities. “Yes.”

“I-,” Connor begins, but they’re interrupted by the lieutenant's phone ringing.

They both stare at it for a while, where he had placed it on a side-table when he entered the house, not knowing what to do. Connor seems to collect himself though, soon answering the call.

As Connor talks to the person on the line, Hank lets his mind run wild. His thoughts are all over the place, and he can feel the familiar feelings of nervousness and anxiety build within him. Connor knows that Hank wants to marry him now… What does he think of it? Does he want the same future as him? Or maybe he's disappointed, maybe it was all too soon?

Before he can overthink too much, Connor's voice makes itself known; the anger is gone, now replaced by the professional tone he uses to hide his emotions when he's at work. "We need to go. They've found the culprit."

Half an hour later, they're outside a small, but luxurious vacation home. Connor parks out of sight from the lit up windows.

As soon as the engine is off, they quickly move out of the car and towards the house. Despite the darkness having fallen around them by now, it's easy to navigate up to the porch. 

They can hear bangs and screams from inside. From the information Connor had received from Niles earlier, it was a hostage situation; the actress Violet Young had managed to call the police before the culprit could stop her, but no signs have been made of her leaving her house. They're both inside now, one of them against their will.

Despite the dangerous situation ahead of them, Connor wastes no time in moving toward the door knob. Hank stops him, grabbing his wrist, his heart in his throat. "What are you doing?" He whispers. "We should wait for back-up!"

"There's no time," Connor replies back, his voice sharp and professional, no signs of the hurt that was dominant just before they left their house. "I also want to beat up the person who threatened my boyfriend into following his stupid plans as soon as possible."

Any other time, Hank would find Connor's protective nature hot, but now is not the time to get distracted, as Connor opens the door and slinks in. Hank scowls, swearing under his breath, and follows.

The inside smells like blood and iron, a promise of the scene that with no doubt will meet them, and the air is thick with tension. Connor moves quickly and quietly, easily navigating into the living room, where the culprit and the victim are located. Hank stays close behind, his processors running as quickly as they can, to analyse their surroundings. 

The culprit seems to be working alone, as no other presence can be felt. But he refuses to put his processors in the background, he needs to be sure this doesn't go wrong - if he gets hurt he might be able to change components.

If Connor gets hurt, that might be the end. He refuses to let that happen. 

They stop briefly at the door frame separating the kitchen from the living room. In the shadows, Hank analyses the victim; Violet is tied to a chair, a piece of tape covering her mouth. She's unconscious and badly beaten, but she's still breathing, although strained. 

She's still alive, but she won't be for much longer if they waste too much time.

He lets his eyes take in the culprit as well, and sure enough, it's Dan. Just seeing him in person is enough to make Hank's lip pull down into a scowl, and the thirium inside him to boil.

Dan has yet to notice them. He walks around the living room, obviously looking for anything of value to take with him. Hank can already see that the bag that sits on the floor next to the actress is filled with everything from awards to expensive electronics, all of it probably worth a fortune. 

The SX800 seems to come to the conclusion that what he has already grabbed is enough, as he seems to give up his search for more objects to steal. Instead, he moves his hand into the pocket to draw the knife that he without a doubt will use to hurt Violet even further.

Hank more feels than sees Connor jump into action as Dan approaches the unconscious woman before him.

"Hands up, Detroit Police!" Connor yells, drawing his gun and aiming it at the SX800. Dan does look surprised for a few seconds, before his lips pull into a smirk. Despite staring into the barrel of a gun, Dan doesn't seem to pay Connor any mind; instead his eyes are trained on Hank, as he follows his partner out from the shadows.

"Will you look at that?" Dan exclaims happily, his voice the same as the one that Hank has heard in his head for the past few weeks. "You bought your slut to me all by yourself. Such a good pet."

"Fuck you, Dan," Hank replies, reaching into the holster to grab his gun. "We're here to stop you. Put your hands up, and you might still get out of this alive."

Dan chuckles, his smirk widening further. "Oh, Hank. For being the leading man of the revolution, you sure as hell are naive." His grin turns wolfish, the plastic forming his teeth shining in the light of the lamp. "If you think I will be the one losing my life in here, you're dumber than I thought."

Instead of waiting for a reply, Dan moves toward quickly. Hank's ready to shield himself, but Dan once again changes focus, charging towards Connor. The knife is still in his hands, the dried red blood from his other victims a huge contrast to the silver blade. He aims it towards Connor, towards his chest, and Connor steels himself from the impact, moving his arms in front of his face. 

Preconstructions run through Hank's mind at top speed; figures showing the possible ways to move Connor to safety and how to make Dan drop the knife. Before he knows it, he's decided on the option with the best chance of success, and he steps in front of Connor.

The preconstruction showed him getting stabbed by the knife, and just as predicted, it happens. The knife enters his forearm, and Hank's lips are drawn into a frown as the pain twists inside of him. He can feel the wires transporting the thirium inside his forearm breaking at the impact. From somewhere behind him, he hears Connor scream his name. Dan chuckles, and twists the knife, trying to make as much damage as possible.

But the SX800 is soon knocked to the ground by the lieutenant, who uses his body to throw Dan away from Hank. They both tumble to the ground.

At the sudden push, Dan loses his grip on the knife. It stays stays stuck in Hank's arm, and he pulls it out slowly, careful not to break anything that's still intact. Thirium spills out of the hole in his arm, painting the wooden floor under them blue. Hank growls, out of both anger and pain, as he looks over to where Dan and Connor landed.

They're currently fighting on the floor, toppling things over as they do their best to hit each other with as much force as possible. Hank can already see some bruises on Connor, and especially a bigger, blaring wound on his cheek, and if he wasn't already fuming, he certainly is now. They roll over once more, and Dan ends up straddling Connor hips. He uses one of his hands to throw more punches at Connor's face while the other tries to grab the gun that Connor had dropped as he made them both tumble to the floor.

"Let go off him!" Hank yells out, and moves to pull Dan off of Connor. Dan's strong, and doesn't move as easily as Hank would have hoped, but it's enough to make Connor be able to get out from under him. Connor coughs as he does his best to stand up, and Hank can see how blood flies out from his mouth.

Although Hank tries his best, Dan fights back, and soon enough he loses the grip he has on him. Dan moves quickly, and he manages to throw a punch square into Hank's face. Hank stumbles and loses the grip of the knife, and Dan is quick with taking it back. Connor, who's wobbly on his feet from the punches he took, doesn't have the strength to fight back as Dan throws his arms around his shoulders and holds the knife against his throat.

Hank's blood runs cold, as Connor's eyes widen.

"I told you Hank," Dan smirks, putting slightly more pressure onto the knife that's resting against Connor's throat. Hank can see how it draws blood. "You fail, your fuck-toy dies. 

Dan gets ready to move his arm towards himself again, to slice Connors throat, but before he can move a shot rings through the house.

Dan freezes, groans, before toppling over onto the ground. The grip on both Connor and the gun loosens, and as soon as he's free Connor runs over to Hank, wrapping his arms around him.

Hank returns the embrace hard, holding Connor close to him. _I was so close to losing him_ , he thinks, his arms strengthening their hold of him. He looks up towards to entrance to what appears to be bedroom, meeting Niles' and Gavin's eyes.

"Seems like we got here just in time," Niles says, sending a nod their way. "Thank god there was a backdoor to this place, so we could get in here quietly."

Gavin seems to analyse the place, just as Hank had when they were still hidden in the shadows, and when he comes to the same conclusion as Hank did, that Dan worked alone, he puts his gun back down into the holster. "We probably could've taken him down if we entered through the front door too, but I think we both can admit that this was easier," Gavin looks over at Hank and Connor, his eyes narrowing. "You two are hurt."

"I'll be fine," Hank assures, pulling away from Connor to look him over. His bruises are red and blaring, and the blood that had leaked from the small wound on his throat has tainted his skin red. "Connor needs to be looked over though."

"You both need medical treatment," Niles replies, his voice making it clear that there's no room for discussion. "Medics should be at the scene by now, and Ben took the Android Mechanic with him. You've done enough here, now. You should go get checked up and then go home."

Hank nods to Niles, more than happy to leave the crime scene in their hands, and the detective smiles back before he moves to the still unconscious actress, untying the ropes and looking her over. Gavin puts his focus onto the android on the floor; It's clear that Dan is dead, his thirium pump and other important components destroyed, his blue blood now pooling on the floor. Hank moves to grab Connor's hand, and he intertwines their fingers. As they move out of the cabin through the front door, they pass by more officers and ambulance staff. As their job seems to have only just begun, Hank feels relief run through him as they get out into the night's cold air, relief in knowing that their part is done and over with. 

He's more than tired of this place.

An hour later, they're both patched up and back home. The car ride was once again quiet, like it had been when they went home earlier in the day as well, the difference being that the atmosphere this time wasn't tense. Instead it was calm and relieved, and they both spent the ride going over the final showdown in their heads.

“Did you miss us?” Connor asks Sumo, whose tail is whipping happily down onto the ground, as soon as they enter their home. He’s using his baby-voice when he talks to the Saint Bernard, and even though everything that this day has been, Hank can’t help but feel that everything will be okay. He smiles to himself, in the first time in what feels like years, before he moves to hang up his and Connor's coat.

“Hank?” Connor says suddenly, his earlier bright demeanor changed into something more serious. His hand continues to pet Sumo as he talks.

“Hm?” Hank replies, facing the racket.

“Yes,” Connor says slowly, but clearly. Hank can feel his LED spin yellow on his temple.

“Yes to what?”

Connor rises, and puts his hand on Hank's shoulder, to turn him around so they're facing each other. He’s smiling, but his eyes are slightly wet. Hank's worried for a few moments before he notices that it's from happiness. “Yes, I want to marry you.”

It takes longer than usual for the information to settle in, but once it does, all Hank can feel is _light._ He lifts Connor up and spins him around, holding him close as Connor lets out giggles and shrieks of happiness. As soon as he places him down onto the floor again, Hank leans in to press his lips against his boyfriend's - no, his _fiance’s_ \- lips, kissing him with all his love.

“I love you,” Hank mumbles, kissing down Connor’s neck, careful to avoid the white bandage that's covering the wound. The lieutenant moves his neck to show even more of that pale, milky skin, and Hank traces the freckles on it down to his collarbones with his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Hank,” Connor whispers, as if the world would shatter around them if he voiced them any louder. “I love you so much. I can’t believe you want this with me.”

“I want everything you can give me, love.” Hank says, before pressing their lips together. The kiss turns passionate, hot and Connor moans as their tongues touch. Hank's hand finds the back of Connor's head, pulling him even closer.

He can feel Connor's hand sneak around his waist to grab onto his ass, and Hank growls into his mouth. Connor moans as well, letting his hands move from Hank's bottom to his chest. As he starts to open up Hank’s bright and colorful dress shirt, the android stops him, holding his wrists in his hands as he moves them up against the wall. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Connor whimpers at his words, but nonetheless leans back against the living room wall, as if his knees would give out if he didn’t. He stills, trusting Hank with his entire being.

The android feels what can only be warmth welling up in his chest as he presses kisses down Connor’s neck once more. He starts working on Connor’s shirt instead, his lips pressing a trail of kisses that follows every part of skin that is revealed. 

His lips soon reaches the edge of Connor’s jeans, and Hank falls to his knees. He can hear Connor’s sharp intake of breath as he opens up the pants, letting them fall down to Connor’s ankles, before the lieutenant quickly kicks them off. He palms Connor’s growing member, smirking at the filthy groan Connor lets out at the contact. He continues to touch him through the fabric of his boxers; tracing the outline of his cock, kissing his thighs all the while, following the small freckles that cover his skin with his tongue. Connor’s hands fits themselves into his hair, and Hank lets out a groan at the sensation.

The fact that _he_ is the one that makes Connor lose control like this… Hank will never be over it. He will never stop being amazed by it. 

Figuring that’s enough teasing for now, Hank reaches for the hem of Connor’s boxers, slowly pulling them down to show off Connor’s cock; it’s average sized, longer than it is thick, but Hank loves it all the same. Connor is already hard, his member standing tall against his stomach. It’s red and already leaking, a bright contrast to his otherwise pale skin.

When he wraps his hand around it, Connor sobs and bucks up against him. Hank chuckles at the scene, the sound filled with warmth and amazement, giving it a few more strokes before he licks the tip. He moves his tongue around the head a few times before he takes it in his mouth.

“Hank!” Connor gasps as Hank’s heat surrounds him, trying his best not to thrust into him. Hank loves to suck Connor off, and he moans as all the information about his fiance pops up in his HUD - _Connor Arkait, Lieutenant, Status: Romantic Partner._

The moan vibrates around Connor's member, and his hands pull at Hank’s gray hair even harder. Hank moves his tongue around effortlessly, his hands massaging Connor’s balls, as he bops up and down his dick. As he swallows down around him, Hank makes sure that their eyes are meeting. He loves to see Connor’s reaction, loves to see how he breathes out sharply and lets out that breathy ‘fuck’. 

Hank continues until he starts to notice that Connor is close, before he pulls off. Connor whines at the loss, but Hank is quickly on his feet, pressing their lips together. 

“Hank, Hank,” Connor murmurs against his lips in between kisses, and Hank knows that he will never love someone more than this. 

“Baby,” Hank replies, pulling away to reach for Connor’s hand. He moves them over to the bedroom, and Connor follows eagerly. “My baby.”

“Yours,” Connor exhales, kicking the door closed as they reach the bedroom. “Only yours.”

Connor’s hands quickly finds the buttons of Hank’s shirt, his mission now to even the fields; Connor is only wearing his shirt and socks, while Hank is still fully clothed. Hank laughs at the eagerness and at Connor letting out a swear as he loses grip of one of the buttons. It’s adorable and he’s so incredibly happy that this moment is _theirs._

As soon as all the buttons are opened up, they both let the rest of their clothing fall to the floor. Hank is distracted by the look Connor sends him for a few seconds; he knows that Connor absolutely adores his body, and he loves the way his eyes lights up whenever he gets to see Hank without his clothes, but his current goal isn't to bask in the heat of that gaze. 

His goal is to make sure Connor knows how much he wants this. And how happy he is that Connor wants it to. 

The atmosphere changes slightly in the room; the hot and fierce air that had followed them from the living room is now gone, replaced by something warmer, something softer. Connor smiles at him; it’s watery, but so beautiful that Hank doesn’t really register that Connor is slowly pushing him towards the bed. He soon falls down onto their soft mattress. He watches on his back as Connor crawls over to him, resting his elbows on either side of his head as he moves down to kiss him. 

The kiss is different from the ones they’ve shared earlier tonight; and it reflects the atmosphere in the room; it’s like Connor tries to put all the love he feels into this kiss, as if he wants the entirety of his feelings to be known through it. Hank feels his breath hitch and his thirium pump work harder, as the feeling of love blooms in his chest.

Connor pulls away to reach over to the bedside table, opening up the first drawer to grab the lube. It’s soon on the bed, and Connor opens the bottle up and pours some on his fingers. He warms it up with his fingers, looking over at Hank tenderly.

“You want to watch?” He asks, almost shyly. Hank huffs. 

“You don’t even need to ask, honey.”

The grin that takes over Connor’s face is blinding. He moves to straddle Hank’s hips, lifting them up so that he can put his finger into himself. He groans as the first finger enters him, and Hank moans at the sight, moving down to touch himself, to take the edge off. He’s rock hard now, the synthetic precome leaking heavily from the tip of his dick as he watches Connor finger himself.

When Connor reaches the knuckle of his third finger, he pulls out, shaking all the while. His breath is shallow, the brown in his eyes hiding behind blown-out pupils. He moves Hank’s hand away from his dick, before he grabs it and starts to sink down onto it.

They groan in unison as Connor slowly sinks down onto him, and Hank swear the feel of it makes him see stars. Feeling Connor’s heat all around him is something he will never get used to, and he’s sure he could spend the rest of his lifetime like this, with him.

Soon enough, Connor bottoms out, sitting on Hank’s thighs. He moans as he starts to move up and down, finding a rhythm to fuck himself on Hank’s dick. Hank’s fingers grab his thighs, his nails digging half-moon shapes into the soft flesh.

“Hank, Hank,” Connor mumbles in between moans as he moves up and down. “I love you, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, babe,” Hank murmurs, groaning at the feel of Connor clenching down on his dick.

"You have no idea what this means to me,” Connor starts, and his hand moves to Hank’s chest, over his thirium pump. “I thought I didn’t have anything to live, _ah, fuck_ \- anything to live for.” He sobs, as his eyes starts to water. “But then, then you show up in my life and you change it, and _ah, ah, Hank, oh fuck-_ you change it for the better and now i have a future. I have a future with you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Connor starts crying for real now, the tears falling down his cheeks.

“Oh, baby,” Hank voices, and gathers Connor in his arms. He pulls him down onto his chest, pressing their lips together as he wipes the tears away. The position has made Connor stop bouncing on his dick, and although they both are harder than they’ve been in their entire life, none of them can find it in them to care. “I’m so glad I got assigned to you. I’d choose you every single time.”

Any other time, Connor would probably hit him on the shoulder, groaning about the cheesiness of his words, but now he just sobs harder into Hank’s chest. Hank’s hand pets his head soothingly. “You want to stop?”

“N-no,” Connor mumbles against Hank’s skin, his breath warm against it. “Fuck me, please.”

“Anything,” Hank says, pressing a kiss to Connor’s hair. “Anything and everything for you.”

Hank starts thrusting up into him, slowly at first, but quicker at Connor’s rising moans. He soon finds the perfect angle to hit Connor’s prostate, and it doesn’t take many thrusts before Connor’s coming against his stomach, moaning his name loudly. Hank doesn’t let up the thrusts, fucking Connor through it, until he goes sloppy against him.

The orgasm makes Connor squeezes down around him, and Hank groans at the sensation. He only manages a few more thrusts before he follows with his own orgasm, filling Connor with his cum. Connor shivers at the sensation, and Hank groans loudly, grinding against Connor’s ass as he rides the orgasm out.

For a few moments, everything is quiet except for their heavy breathing, as they try to come back to their bodies. Hank pulls out, and Connor inhales through his teeth at the sensation. Some synthetic cum starts running out of him, down his thighs and onto the sheets, but neither of them have enough energy to care.

As soon as they’ve come down from their highs enough, Connor pulls Hank into a kiss. It’s not heated anymore; instead, it's sweet, loving and soft. Hank is sure that he has never felt anything as tender as this.

In the middle of their kisses, Hank suddenly remembers what rests in the one of the bedside drawers. He pulls away from Connor, who sits up to look at him in confusion, as he reaches into the drawer. 

“You see,” Hank begins, holding the velvet box in his hand. “As I mentioned, I did plan on proposing properly. I had even gotten us rings and everything. And I know that I didn’t get down on one knee or anything, but would you still accept the ring?”

Connor looks at him with wide eyes, before they narrow in happiness, as he laughs. “ _God_ , Hank. The one-knee thing is not the only way to propose,” he says, matter-of-factly, before his face softens again. “And of course, I’ll accept it.”

The grin that spreads on his lips is nothing Hank can stop, even if he wanted to. It only grows bigger as he takes Connor’s hand and puts the ring onto his finger.

The ring fits onto Connor's finger perfectly - of course it does, Hank had made sure the measurements were correct after all - and it's with a watery gaze and a big grin that Connor takes in the new weight on his finger.

"I still cant believe this is real," Connor laughs, the sound interrupted by a sob. Hank can feel how his chassis pretty much swells at the sight, and he presses a kiss to his forehead. 

"You wanna do the honors for me?" Hank asks, and it's with a shaky exhale that Connor says _yes_.

Taking the other, bigger band out from the box cautiously, as if scared that the gold will turn to dust at his touch, Connor uses his free hand to take hold of Hank's. His hand is shaking as he slowly puts the ring around Hank's finger, and the android can hear Connor's breath get caught in his throat as the ring comes to rest in it's place.

They're both quiet for a few beats, just staring down at the matching gold bands that are now decorating both of their fingers. The silence is broken by Connor's tears flowing freely down his cheeks once more.

Hank pulls him in against his chest, holding him close as Connor cries and whispers promises and soft words about how much Connor _loves_ him until his fiancee is sleeping soundly against him.

The blue of Hank's LED is reflecting in the golden bands, the rings holding their future.

And as Hank enters stasis, he can't help but think that he is ready for whatever the future brings him, as long as Connor is right next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any grammar/spelling errors!
> 
> you can find me on twitter @ jeonghooons!! thank you for reading ♥


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